


Ink & Gold

by ShyOwl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Bottom Steve Rogers, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Insecure Steve Rogers, Josh the Tattoo Artist, M/M, Panic Attacks, Possessive Tony Stark, Pro-Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Sweet Baby Angel Steve Rogers, Tattooed Steve Rogers, Tattoos, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Top Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyOwl/pseuds/ShyOwl
Summary: No one knows of the growing collection of numbers Steve has imprinted on his skin; cradling his heart and trailing down his chest, branding him in a memorial he never plans to forget. Many represents his loss, his failures...and one, resting possessively on his side, is the gold circle with a triangle that represents his everything.Steve does his best to keep everyone from knowing but secrets, especially burdens, are rarely hidden for long and when Tony demands a side of Steve that has never been seen, Steve may find that many of the numbers may just mean forgiveness.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 186





	Ink & Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone is now living in the tower again (as should be). Civil War and Thanos happened but at a slightly different timeline and with no Pepperony. Everyone is living domestically right now with some mild tension still needing work on.
> 
> Warning: Brief mention of suicidal tendencies, Tony has a mouth, mildly unhealthy possessiveness, and some angst turned to ooey-gooey (Steve deserves it) fluff

-o-

Steve rarely put in earphones when he was in the chair. 

Josh said he was never offended by clients who did so, but Steve always liked to hear the hum of the machines and be able to share conversation when it didn't interrupt the artist. Podcasts and music was fine and all, but it made his head feel too full and he found it too easy to drift into hyper focus on each individual number being scratched into his skin. 

"Hip bone." Josh warned again as he picked up the machine and pressed the tip against the skin and bone.

"All set." Steve said, smiling to himself as the miniature stabs began. "All the ink is holding up?"

"Beautifully. It still makes me itch I have to get after you about fifteen times a line but it looks like we're being consistent in maintaining the black." He made a gentle wipe before he went back to hovering over the exposed hip with intense focus. "How are we looking for the list? I feel like we gotta be over half-way by now."

Steve laughed, "Yeah, we reached the half-way point a while back."

"Holy hell there is a god." Josh grumbled, eyes narrowed. "I get you are a superhuman, Rogers, but I am looking forward to not feeling so nauseated in pounding ink into you like this. Ugh." 

"A surprising downside to superhuman healing; intense tattooing."

"Intense." Josh pulled back to refill. "Yeah, _that's_ a word for it."

Steve couldn't help but laugh again. He did feel sympathy for the tattooer who was always careful to provide the least amount of pain and damage to his clients as possible. Steve and his healing was a nightmare. Each session took an hour and they only managed a few dates in because Josh had to go in and reapply the ink numerous, fifteen was the norm, times to ensure that it stayed put and acted like a normal tattoo. 

It was fine for Steve. It was a heartache to the morality of Josh.

"Next session you're hitting 2019, so yeah, you're catching up."

"Ahhhh," Josh sang up like a choir. "The end is neigh. Praise be lord Jeebuz and the Holy Lord Beyoncé."

"Amen." Steve snorted with a grin. 

It went silent again save for the humming of the tattooing machine. He looked down himself, eyeing the long pattern of dates that started under his left pec, hovering about an inch below the nipples, starting with two of some of the most important numbers, and trailed down in a steady, thick line of numbers about three inches thick with three set of dates on each line. 

The dates were standard American form with dots separating the numbers but a small horizontal dash separating each full-date. Most all were done in a thick black save for a few with special colors; purple, red, green, blue, silver, white...gold.

His eyes took a small glance over to the right side, almost empty save for the small circular pattern in rich gold, nestled under his hip-bone where the socket was. Under that were two dates he swore to never forget.

Quickly, he looked away and back at the growing, dense block of numbers. It trailed down and was about meeting the same point as the gold circle. Just a few more sessions and it would pass it. Steve wondered briefly how long it would be till the block of numbers reached his thigh. Would they continue on till he needed to start from the top on the other side?

His head flopped back and he stared up at the dark ceiling and willed his hand to not gently press against the gold and wish...

"Ok, and second one is..." he stuck his tongue out, made a few more scratches and pulled back, "done."

"Third one?" Steve pressed, picking himself away from his thoughts, surprised it sounded like they were ending so soon. They always did at least three dates per session. He thought Josh would want to do another as it was another step to being done.

"Well," Josh held up a finger, "I wanted to show you my," he provided jazz hands, "epic design for the team."

"You think you got one done?" Steve sat up a bit straighter, surprised. "You've been working on this for years."

"Right? Man, this piece of sparkly shit has been haunting my dreams ever since I got your ass in my chair. What could I make for the Avengers? The saviors of the world? The sexy of sexiness? It needed to be simple...but epic...include everyone but not be overwhelming. Something with some..." he acted like he was sprinkling salt, "BAM."

"Well then," Steve looked eager. "Let's see it."

Josh cleared his throat as he pulled out a sheet of paper, "Daaaa, ta-da-tada-da, da DAAAAAAAA." He unfolded it and presented the final piece to the blond.

Steve plucked it from his hand and stared at the artistic piece. "Oh."

It took a moment for it to all absorb into his head but when it did, he couldn't believe how perfect it was. Artistic, memorable, inclusive, stand-out, quiet, geometric, smooth...perfect.

"Wow..." His finger traced over the pattern.

"Right? Here is Hawkeye's arrow," he pointed to the arrow in the middle. "Here is your star. Black Widow's symbol. Oh, oh, here is the A, well, obviously..."

Steve laughed as Josh walked him through the entirety of the tattoo. Once he was done, Steve had to confirm again that it was perfection. There was no guarantee who would get this imprinted on them (Clint was a safe guess though) but Steve needed it.

"Wrist." He tapped his right side, opening up his hand and ready to receive just below the palm. 

" _Yeeeees_." Josh hissed, doing a slow double-fist pump. "I could puke I am so happy...this thing was almost as nightmarish as you. Of course the simple ones always are."

Steve just laughed some more, "Should I take insult?"

"Really don't care if you do." Josh hummed to himself as he pulled out his stencil to apply to Steve's skin. Apparently he was ready to put this on no matter what Steve thought. Truthfully, Steve was surprised Josh didn't just try to tie him to the chair and put this on him the instant he walked into the shop--this had been a massive, personal, and prideful project.

"Alrighty," Josh grinned and Steve couldn't help but share it back. "Let's get some more ink on you."

-o-

Someone was going to notice so Steve decided to just avoid the avoidance and show off the work the moment he returned to the tower. Besides, he promised Josh to share this as much as he could in hopes more of his team would make an appearance and get this piece of work done as well.

"Hey," Steve greeted as he walked in, shaking off his jacket. He gave a smile to Natasha and Clint, feeling ready to shake their world. He always loved causing trouble whenever he could. Apparently Bucky, who was promptly ignored as usual, sensed stupidity in the works and sauntered over ready to stop Steve from jumping out a window. Again. "Wanna see my tattoo?"

It was silent for a brief moment, clearly no one believing him, until he held up his bare wrist to showcase he new ink. Instantly, the cereal in Clint's mouth spurted out and onto the counter and he was left a choking mess.

"Wha..." He slapped his hand to his chest, coughing intensely. "Wha...no...you...what?"

"Ha." Steve smirked and handed over his wrist to Natasha who waiting for it. "You still breathing there, Clint?"

The other man just choked some more.

Natasha looked over his wrist, tilting it around to get a good look over the image. Her nails traced over the mark, looking at it closely, slowly figuring out what she was looking at before she looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

Steve just gave her a small shrug, "Just wanted one."

"How long have you been planning on getting one?"

"I've wanted one for the Avengers for some time now." He pulled his hand back to smile at the design. "Just seems after everything it felt fitting to finally get it."

Clint grabbed it now, dragging Steve around to get a good and proper look at it, "A little fancy."

"You have a samurai on all of your bicep." Steve sighed, allowing his friend to manhandle him around to get a better look at the ink. Really, it couldn't be _this_ surprising that he got a tattoo. What the hell would they say if they saw the rest of his body?

"So, this is an Avengers tattoo?" Clint asked, looking it up and down. "Officially?"

"It's not like it's licensed but yep." He gave off an oof when Natasha grabbed his wrist back to continue to look it over. "Rather nice, huh?"

She nodded and then looked at him, "I want one."

He grinned back, happy though surprised Natasha wanted one first. "I'll call up the place and get you in to see him tomorrow."

"Hey, me too!" Clint waved his hand. "I think I need something to make this side," he flexed his arm without a tattoo unnecessarily, "match the quality of the other."

"You little punk...you got one?" Bucky grabbed the wrist, only after Nat was done because she was terrifying, to look it over. He tilted a brow at the Captain. "You're sentimental."

Steve twisted his arm around to grab Bucky's wrist and twist uncomfortably, trying to take him down by putting pressure on his knees. Of course Bucky was bulkier and did not make it easy, "You can ask to see it, moron."

"Nope." And with a huff and pushing weight back in his heels, he pushed Steve back and off of him. He probably would've made a tackle if Natasha hadn't thrown some discarded Foot Loops from Clint's choking fit at the brunette's face. "You're no fun."

"We don't need two moronic bulks like you rattling the whole Tower. Sit your fine thighs down and shut-up."

Bucky sulked. "I swore I thought once you and I started sleeping together I'd be your favorite."

"You? Nat's favorite? Over _Steve_?" Clint sneered. "Yeah, right, good one. Even I would get slaughtered and we have Budapest in our history. And a love-child-chicken. Even that doesn't defeat Steve."

Bucky just glared at Steve who was providing him a very smug and pleased smile. Life certainly was easier when he was Black Widow's favorite person. "I don't like being my girlfriend's second favorite."

"Uuuhm, excuse you? Second? No. You're third." Clint continued and used his thumb to motion between himself and the scary redhead. "Love-child-chicken. You and your sexy greasy Cobain hair can't beat that. I have a son named after her. What do you have? Thighs. That's what you have. No love-child-chicken."

Bucky was so tired of hearing about Clint's chickens and how one of them was the adopted child of Clint and Natasha. 

"Sorry babe.” Natasha shrugged, not sounding apologetic at all.

“That apology cuts more than you throwing cereal at my head.” Bucky grumped, still sitting down as instructed.

“Don’t care.”

Bucky just sulked some more.

“Hey, hey—let me see it again!” Clint demanded and tried to grab at Steve’s wrist. “This is just unbelievable…of all people…hey! Stark! Good timing! Get a load of this!”

Steve paled and swallowed thickly, looking over to see Tony pausing at the entry to the open kitchen. The dark-haired man stared at the group, his eyes narrowing and mouth pulled into a frown when his dark eyes locked with Steve’s.

“Excuse me for interrupting.” He muttered as he brushed past them to get to the coffee pot. “Just getting a refill.”

Steve opened but quickly closed his mouth. He felt queasy as the man did his best to ignore the blond.

Natasha heaved a deep sigh and approached the inventor, talking lowly to him. Tony just gave her a snort, pulled away, and finished his refill. She rolled her eyes, said something else, appearing testy. Steve wished he could hear what they were saying…he had a feeling it was about himself. Natasha always tried to be a medium between Steve and Tony, trying to patch up their fraying relationship to the best of her ability.

“You all continue. Just let me know if you need me to pay for anything.”

“God dammit, Tony.” Natasha grumbled, giving him a look that promised a wallop later.

“T-Tony,” Steve tried, clearing his throat.

Tony just brushed past him, leaving the room freezing.

His shoulders slumped in hurt. That was normal.

“Steve.” Natasha huffed, snapping him to attention. She pointed after the handsome man. “Go. Now.”

“I…uh…” he looked over to see Tony still leaving, heading back to one of his workshops.

“Go.” She pressed.

“Ok…well…ah, shit.” He groaned and then rushed after the man. Luckily, or maybe FRIDAY was on his side, the elevator stayed open and Steve jumped in. It was suffocating and silent for the next ten seconds as the elevator brought them down to the labs.

Panicking, Steve took a peek over to Tony who was doing his very best to ignore the younger man in the smaller space.

Well…this was something he supposed.

When the elevator doors opened, god it had felt like hours, Tony just continued on with the clear purpose to make Steve feel like he didn’t exist.

It would be so easy, and was it ever tempting, to press the button and go back up to the safety and warmth of the others. Just leave Tony alone as he clearly wanted and try again another day.

‘Yeah, right…what other day. This is almost every day now.’ Steve thought as he slowly stepped out, watching the firm back get further and further away. ‘I got to try something. Just…’ he briefly held his new tattoo, thumb brushing over the ink that still burned, and remembered the gold on his hip and…

“Tony! Wait up!” He yelped out as he rushed after the man who, gratefully, paused for a moment.

“Tony,” Steve went after him, feeling the spark of something akin to annoyance hitting the air—a rather normal reaction whenever Steve got too close to the handsome inventor. But it was something. He had waited, for a few seconds, to allow Steve to catch up. He wasn’t shooing the awkward young man away. There were no intense, spiteful glares or closed doors or anything like what Steve expected. “I was just showing everyone--”

“Except myself.” Tony noted, barely giving Steve a passing glance as he entered into one of his personal workshops, setting his coffee on a table.

“Other’s weren’t here either.” Steve noted, softly.

“Guess that’s true.” He looked around his workstation as the door _fwsshed_ shut, cutting the two of them off from the rest of the tower and the others.

It’s been one of the few times the two had been left alone in the same room. Tony had a tendency to maneuver Steve away if the blond got too close. The closing of the door surprised the soldier and he looked at Tony with cautious hope. 

“So,” Tony started slowly, as if battling with something himself, “what were you showing everyone that got Big Bird choking?”

Oh…

 _Oh_.

Tony was talking to him. 

Instantly, Steve held out his wrist, baring the ink in front of him for Tony to see.

The billionaire took a side-ways glance, went back to his work, before his head snapped back to fully look at the image. “That’s a tattoo.”

Steve nodded.

“You got yourself a tattoo.”

“Yes.”

“An…” Tony’s eyes narrowed at the image, “Avengers one? Really?”

“Yes.” Steve bit his lip, trying to keep his stare on the man who continued to observe the blond as if he were an experiment. Tony was speaking to him. He was looking at Steve.

“Well, huh. Guess that explains the intense noise coming from the kitchen.”

“Yeah, I had thought of saving the reveal when we were all together but,” Steve shrugged, “Natasha and Bucky seem to know things without any notice. I wouldn’t have gotten two more feet before they had known something was up.”

“Their Steve-sense is impressive.” Tony muttered.

“Unfortunately. It makes it hard to get away with anything.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. You’re Nat’s favorite. She spoils you.”

“True. Bucky is still pretty sour over that.” He looked down at his wrist, still keeping it in sight, just wanting the man to take it, touch him…he decided just Tony giving him any sort of attention was more than good enough. “He really thought his thighs and face would always be enough to have a woman swoon in his favor.”

Tony sorted, it sounded like he was trying not to laugh, “And of course he fell for Nat.”

“Certainly seems fair given his former playboy-ways.” Steve wondered if it was fine they were still talking about Bucky. Though, truth be told, Tony did not seem to really hold anything against Bucky—Steve had found the two of them chatting pleasantly on multiple occasions, which just crushed his heart to little bits. Because it was only Steve still had an issue with.

“So…” Tony hummed. “A tattoo.”

“Yeah,” The blond shrugged, “It looks like the others are getting interested in getting the same one. I mean…I had hoped they, you…everyone,” he sputtered, “would but--”

“You just went on and got one by yourself. A loner move for something so team-heavy.” Tony said, his tone growing cold again. 

"I wasn't trying to exclude anyone..." Steve tried. "I just…I was just there and Josh was excited about it--"

"What do you mean you were just _there_?"

"I was just there?" Steve blinked.

"You just happened to be at a tattoo parlor?"

"Wha...oh, oh." He shook his head. "No, I was...Tony, this," he motioned to his wrist, "is not my first tattoo. I was there getting something else done when Josh showed me this piece."

Tony blinked back, his brain slowly shutting down and then rebooting. "Not first...Josh? Who the hell is _Josh_?"

"My tattoo artist?"

" _Your_ tattoo artist?"

"Well, yeah, he has done so well that I just keep going back to him. Not many are comfortable with doing anything with me anyway. The healing makes it really difficult. Josh has to tattoo a single line numerous times for it to stick."

"I...wait...wait." Tony took a step back and inhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let me catch up. You, Steve Rogers, have tattoos."

"Yes."

"As in multiple."

Steve nodded again.

"How many?"

"Oh, uhm," Steve frowned. "I am not quite sure. I have three pieces including this one," he lifted up his hand, "but one just...it's something that continues and has many components."

"Components."

"Yeah, it..." he cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Just a large piece."

"And how many pieces?" Tony urged.

"About...a few hundred."

Tony coughed and looked him up and down as if seeing him for the first time. "Hundreds of components. You have…that many? _Where_?"

Steve awkwardly motioned to his side, "It starts under my chest and is heading down to my thighs."

"Oh." Tony swallowed thickly. "It's at your thighs?"

"About. Not there yet." Steve shifted a bit, pulling his jacket close around him. Something felt...odd between them in this conversation. No longer quite as awkward or angry…but something different and heavy. "Just getting past my hip...yeah, it's heading down that way."

"What is it?"

The blond man looked away, "Just...something."

Tony scowled, "Why can't I know?"

"It's personal and a bit hard to put into words."

"Try me."

"Tony--"

"Look, Cap, let me stop you right there." Tony had that tense tone, his voice rough and sarcastic. Full of hurt and anger. "You're the one who approached me about this; wanting to try and be all team-friendly again. And hey, look at me, I’m allowing it. I can forgive well enough," which sounded like a lie with how harsh his words were thrown out, "but not forget. I am now very aware you can be a hypocrite, you can be a liar, and you don't always do what you say. I am not just letting you in, trying to open me up to something, before I get something in return."

"I...but..." Steve looked at him, open and confused. "W-What do you want?" At this moment he was willing to give Tony anything, _anything_ , to just get him to no longer hate Steve.

"I want you to drop this shield you have. This," Tony's nose scrunched up, "god, you have more armor around you than I do in my suit. Drop it or get out."

"But...w-what?"

"You know what, Rogers. You," he reached up and poked the younger man's chest, "have been hiding from the team and myself from the start. And, hey, I get it. I do. Probably more than you give me credit for. You're a young guy, you've dealt with some pretty horrible shit in your life and I am sympathetic to it, really. I am. But this front of indifference you put up, this immature gallant of being a hero to try and hide that you're a scared kid has gotten on my last nerve."

Steve still could only just stare at the handsome man. It was the most Tony had said to him in weeks.

"This would be so much easier if you threw a tantrum," Tony groaned and rubbed his head. "You know, release something. Show that soul of yours to the people you like to call your family. Instead, you push us away and refuse to show us anything about you."

"That's...not true?"

Tony barked out cold laughter, "Yeah it is, Cap. Out of everyone here, you are the one who refuses to grow with us. You continue to try and be this unmovable and unbreakable pillar. I know more about Clint, hell, more about Barnes than I do you. Because you refuse to show me, or anyone else, any of it."

Steve opened his mouth but closed it, unable to find words.

Tony stepped closer, "I know some of you tend to willfully forget how smart I am. How dangerous I am. I do my part to help you to forget, to show you I am more than a man in an iron suit who has billions in his bank because I have hyperactive brain. Natasha has shown us she likes soap-operas, dogs, can eat banana and peanut butter sandwiches every day without tiring, and is an encyclopedia of nerdy pop-culture references. Clint would drop everything to be a full-time dad if it wouldn't drive his wife up the wall, that his daughter is the biggest daddy's girl known to man and would have a herd of ponies if she asked, wife’s wrath be damned, and he has an unhealthy obsession with everything organic and chickens. What are you, Cap, outside of being a fucking shield?"

What was he?

Steve looked down, his thoughts into overdrive. He had not been prepared for this onslaught when he went after the man.

_What was he?_

"I..." Was he something more than a shield? Who was Steve Rogers before Captain America? Was he really anything? "I don't..."

"You don't know." Tony's voice was low as he approached even closer, his heat pushing into Steve's space. "Because you squash it down to protect everyone. Let me tell you this, the people out there," he pointed to a wall, “governments, the civilians, the fanboys, whatever...that might be good enough for them but it's not for us. It's not for me. People who care about you don't want Captain America. And I'm not accepting Captain America anymore. Give me Steve Rogers, now, or get the fuck out."

"H-How do I just give you that?"

"Show me."

"I...it's a tattoo...just a--"

"It's not and you know it. You know the moment you show it to me I am going to see more of you than anyone else has ever seen. It scares you pissless and, normally, I'd be willing to treat you with some more gentleness but I'm tired of this charade or dance or whatever it is you want us to keep doing. Show me now."

Steve looked down at his body and bit his lip.

He'd promised to give Tony anything. He just hadn't imagined something like this would be so hard.

"Uhm," he cleared his throat, "am I allowed to keep my pants on?"

This time the laughter from Tony sounded a bit warmer, just a bit, "No promises."

The gold...the wish...he couldn't have Tony see.

But he promised to give Tony anything.

His heart in his stomach, feeling nauseated, he pushed his jacket off and reached to the hem of his shirt, surprised to find himself freezing. His fingers were shaking. He was shaking. Why was he shaking?

"Deep breaths." Tony whispered, his warm hands reaching over and touching Steve's trembling ones. "And drop it off." His face was closer to Steve than he realized. "Let me see it, Steve. Let me see you."

Swallowing thickly, trying to not become ill, Steve closed his eyes and counted down from five before he removed his shirt, dropping it to the ground so he couldn't quickly hide himself.

"Oh," Tony sounded surprised. "What...what is this?"

Steve refused to look at him; he avoided eye contact as best as he could, feeling queasy and light-headed. "Dates."

"Well, ok," Tony couldn't take in all the numbers quick enough. "Of what?"

"Of...well, everything. Important. Vital. That I shouldn't forget."

"What are they? What is..." his eyes honed in on a set of numbers imprinted with a powerful gold and he blinked, his mind rebooting again. "Is that my birthday?"

"Yeah, uhm...and this is Natasha's and this is Bruce's. And this...erm," he motioned to the lightening blue stream of numbers? Were they numbers? Maybe...it looked like a weird set of numerical gibberish. "Thor's in his language. The translation was a bit hard to narrow down on earth-day. The one next to it, October 8th, is the closest day we could get. I gave up on the year."

"Oh."

"This is when World War Two started." Steve pointed, higher up on his side. "And this is when Bucky joined and then when I joined."

"Where does it start?"

At the top, holding up Steve's chest, were just two sets of dates rather than three that followed each line underneath.

"Mom's birthday and death date."

"Oh." Tony found it hard to find words. "What else?"

"When I died. When I was revived. When I found out about Bucky...when I found out about your parents." Steve continued to look away. "When I dropped Bucky. When I first met Natasha. When I first met you."

"So. Everything."

"Well, almost." Steve was struggling to breathe and Tony was too close. "We're still catching up. As I said, each line needs to be done many times so...yeah. Almost done though. I'm about to 2019."

"When the hell did you start?"

"Three weeks after New York."

"Back in 2012?"

"I can't go in as often as I want." Steve pushed on. "It should've been done a while ago but with missions and-and...being on the run for a while and money...uh...just life got in the way at times."

His stomach jumped when the calloused fingertips pressed up against skin and roamed over the numbers as if absorbing something from a holy text. Tony's hands were warm and were unsettling, tickling with some sort of promise of gentleness and power, and Steve found himself frozen again.

"I, unfortunately, have to admit this Josh fellow," he sneered, "has talent in how he can paint your body. This looks beautiful on you."

"Beautiful is not a word I'd use for it."

"Good thing I'm still in a pissed-off mood and don't care. It's beautiful." Tony frowned. "Though I can understand...some memories can be...ugly. But you chose to have them on you. Why?"

"Because I...well, most all of them are from my own choices. I shouldn't let myself to ever forget them and what I did."

"So it's self torture."

"No." Steve said too quickly. "No. Not...not that."

"I could probably write a book so thick it would make Victor Hugo weep about self-hate. This," Tony continued to touch and trail around the ink, stroking the skin with tenderness that made Steve want to recoil and hide from. "Is self-hate at its finest."

"Have you seen enough?" Steve pulled back, his face pale, as he reached for his shirt to pull it back on. He couldn't do this...this...whatever it was. He wanted to for Tony but this...no, it was too much and he couldn't...

Hands grabbed at his waist, halting his movements and pulled him back tightly to a firm body. Tony's thick arms wrapped securely around Steve and his head pressed softly against his neck. "Shhh, just take breaths. Deep breathes. It's ok. It's ok."

Steve had no idea what to do. He had dreamt of being in Tony's arms for so long and now he was here and he had no idea what to do or what was going on. The hands, so strong they carried metal and the world, were gently caressing over Steve's bare stomach. And then the lips, with a slight tickle of the goatee, trailed over the exposed nape.

The young blond choked and nearly jumped back but Tony did not allow him. Teeth gave a soft, warning nip and Steve stilled.

“Relax.” Tony commanded. Despite Steve’s flinch to follow orders he could not relax, but he did not move. He allowed the fingers to trail up and down the black markings. “It’s ok…it’s ok…I have you.”

“Tony, what are you doing?” His voice was thick.

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago. I can admit I screwed up as well. I gave you far too much space. Probably made you feel…” He paused, his voice soft and angry, “unwanted.”

Steve had no idea how to respond to that.

“You needed me from the start, but I was too much of a fucking coward to do anything about it. I knew, _I knew_ Steve, how fragile you are from the get-go. How old you were pretending to be, how unbreakable, when you were so damn terrified and needed someone. You looked at me in hope and I rejected you…and I did it again and again and again.” Tony pressed his head against the skin. “I am so sorry.”

“You didn’t,” Steve made a subtle move to step away but stilled again when Tony’s grip tightened and a warning noise escaped his throat, “you didn’t do anything.”

“That’s the fucking point. I did nothing.”

“You’ve saved everyone--”

“God fucking dammit Steve!” Tony snarled and maneuvered himself around to get Steve facing him. “This isn’t about some heroic deed that’s part of my role as Iron Man. This is about my feelings for you, your feelings for me, and my continuous effort to keep you at arms’ length away despite you clearly making multiple attempts, in your own adorably awkward way, to get close.”

“I…what?”

“You’re obvious, Rogers. Your mistake was trying to come off cold and standoffish. Composed, I could buy, you’re a soldier…but god, you are so gentle. So giving. These eyes,” the hands reached up to cradle Steve’s face, thumbs brushing circular motions on the soft cheeks, under the blue eyes, “they really can’t hide anything from me.”

Tony’s expression was hot and powerful but gentle. It made Steve feel weak in the knees. Tony had always reminded Steve of fire. Something so many tried to tame for their own benefit and who, for the most part, allowed the taming to provide protection and warmth—a light in the darkness of the world. But he also raged and overwhelmed. He burned people easily and could consume life if he so chose (he just had not chosen to, yet). He enveloped Steve, who was always cold and lost in the shadows, in something blinding and hot.

“I’ve chewed you out like I had nothing to do with it with this,” He looked down at the tattoos. “If I had just talked with you when we first met. If I had invited you to the Tower like I wanted, not left you alone and controlled by SHIELD. If I had just called you more…talked with you more…told you the truth…not always get so fucking angry at you over things you couldn’t control…just treated you like my Steve, this goofy kid with his bleeding heart on his sleeve, and not like my dad’s untouchable treasure…” he growled and those brown eyes got misty, “god, you could’ve been mine from the start.”

Steve’s lips parted in surprise. “Wha…Tony, I…sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re an idiot.”

Steve was torn between looking hurt and glaring at him unimpressed.

“Sorry, sorry… _oblivious_ , if that makes it any better. I still think an idiot considering a lot of your choices. Of course,” his fingers dipped into the hem of Steve’s pants and he laughed softly when the man’s stomach twitched and Steve gave a little noise of surprise, “I am an idiot myself.”

His fingers were too close to the golden arc and Steve quickly tried to push the touch away. He was close to panting and his skin was on fire, “T-Tony, you’re getting a little…too much…”

“Too bad.”

“I…” Steve shook his head, it was pounding and he was so confused. And flustered. And maybe just a little bit turned on. Which felt very inappropriate for the moment. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to reach you through that incredibly dense skull.” Tony leaned over and gave another nip to Steve’s neck.

“I…wha…but-but,” ok, he really did not expect this when he came down to include Tony in his new tattoo adventure. “You’re mad at me.”

“Furious.” Tony started to nibble up to Steve’s ear, his voice low and his hips started to press against Steve’s own.

“T-This…is how you’re showing you’re mad at me for…for Siberia? For everything?”

Tony’s hands trailed down Steve’s tummy before they gripped his waist. “In a matter of speaking.”

“For lying--”

“I’m not pissed off about you lying anymore. I got over that quickly enough. I’ve lied to you numerous times. I’m still pissed off that you thought you had to…that you still don’t understand why that pisses me off.” Tony growled. 

“Because I was acting like a soldier?” Steve tried slowly.

“YES!” He threw his hands up in frustration before they instantly were gripping at Steve’s bare arms, like he hated to be away from the exposed skin. “You thought you had to lie to me because you failed or some shit like that. You thought you had to be the burden to all of it and resolve it on your own because you didn’t want to hurt my _feelings_.”

“It was about your parents—it was a bit more serious than that.” 

Tony’s fingers pressed deep into Steve’s skin. “You tried to be an adult for me, for the thousandth time.”

“What else was I supposed to be?” Steve asked, blinking in surprise.

“Not _that_.” Tony hissed. “You weren’t even twenty-five when you got out of the ice and I allowed you to take charge because I wanted someone else to hold everything up because I’m a selfish prick.”

“You’re allowed to have someone hold you up. Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you have to shoulder everything.”

“No, I should’ve shouldered more because I fucking adore you and we were partners and I made you think _everything_ was your responsibility, that everything was your fault. I helped make you turn into this closed off mess.”

“You…what…?”

Tony sighed, instantly knowing what the idiot was focusing on. “Love, seriously? I’ve been trying to keep my fingers from going down the backside of your pants since we’ve first met. I’ve just spent the better part of fifteen minutes chewing you out because I hate how you allow yourself to suffer. I’m here lecturing you because of romantic feelings. I bit you just a few moments ago, holding myself back from doing worse. What?” He deadpanned, “Did you think that was a friendship bite?”

“Uhm…”

“Holy shit you did.”

“N-no!” Steve shook his head frantically. “Just…that you did it out of frustration or…or something.”

“Steve,” Tony leveled him with a pitiful look. “I’ve wanted to fuck you senseless since we first met.”

Steve’s face went neon and he sputtered out in surprise.

Tony threw back his head and laughed, it was such a gorgeous sound that had not been heard for some time. “Holy shit.”

“Tony…”

“You didn’t _know_?!” He was still laughing. “Babe, my eyes were constantly on your ass. I commented about you and Pilates. I asked if someone kissed me, looking deadass at you, when I woke up from getting the wind knocked out of me.”

“You…wait,” Steve felt like his own breath was knocked out of him, “you were…flirting with me?”

“Holy fucking shit.” Tony continued to laugh.

“T-This is not funny.”

“Oh, it is hysterical. You big oblivious idiot.”

“Fury said you did that to a lot of people.” Steve muttered, his ears burning. “I thought you were just…testing me to see if I was worth being your leader. You were flirting with Bruce.”

Now Tony pouted, “I was clearly giving you more attention. And, really, testing you?”

“Yes?”

“I was just being a brat trying to get you to pay attention to me and only me.” Tony scowled, “I’m going to kill Fury. And do we still have the time-suits? I might as well go back and kick my own ass.”

Steve had to smile a little, it felt shy on his face, “No, no time traveling.”

“At least let me go back and really focus on my words. I’m a god at flirting, Steve, a god. Thor has nothing on me. I refuse to believe I was anything but obvious that I wanted to come down your throat.”

“TONY!” Steve yelped

“What? Apparently I have to be ridiculously blunt for you to catch on. Don’t get all pure maiden on me.”

Steve covered his face and groaned. His cheeks felt sunburnt. 

“Fine, fine,” Tony went back to laughing, pulling Steve’s hands away. “Come on, let me see your face…it must be fantastic…ah, there we go.” His grin was devilish. “Yeah, cute. Your face is so red.”

“This still is not funny.”

“This still is hysterical.” Tony retorted and then grabbed Steve’s face and kissed him. Apparently the man in the iron suit felt like being merciful for a few moments and only gave Steve the softest, sweetest of kisses as their first.

“Oh.” Steve breathed out.

“Yeah, oh.” Tony smirked. “I can promise you that was not me kissing you as a friend.”

Steve bit his bottom lip, “I can’t lie my mind sort of went there.”

“The fact that I, one of the most insecure men around, did not know you were suffering like this is a crime.” Tony winced. “I am sorry, baby.”

“This is not your fault at all.” Steve quickly warned.

“Yeah, it is.” Tony kissed him again. “On some level. It really is.” His hand cupped the side of Steve’s face. “You have PTSD and some heavy-hitter depression. Probably anxiety to boot…you don’t handle it the same as me, but it’s there, clear as day. And you…your…" a pained expression went over his face as he tried to bite the words out, "suicidal tendencies…”

“Suicidal—whoa, whoa, what?”

“Don’t even begin,” Tony snapped. “You jumping out of planes, jumping in front of bullets, jumping…just jumping into danger without any consideration for your safety at all…”

“We all do that!”

“Not like you and you know it. Or,” he frowned and then sighed, “you don’t. Of course you don’t. Because no one told you, Fury never made you get therapy, and none of us ever really talked to you about your life… _god dammit_.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you’re going to therapy, dollface. FRIDAY, make a note.”

“Done sir.” She responded at the ready. “I have a list of seven therapist that seem like a good fit for Mr. Rogers. Please make your selection and I will get him in a session before next week.”

“Good.”

“T-Therapy?” ok, now Steve was really struggling to keep up. He tried to backtrack: first Tony was giving him the cold shoulder, then he was giving Steve a chance, then he was angry, then he asked for a visual on the tattoos, then he was touching Steve, then he was angry again, then lecturing, then more touching, then more lecturing, then laughter, then kissing, now more lecturing….

What?

“What?”

“Babe, we’re finally going to give you time to get looked over and healed mentally. We’re going to talk, you and me, about things. You’re going to see a professional. You’re going to get to be treated fairly and act like a kid, for once.”

“I’m thirty-two, Tony.”

“Yeah, don’t care.” Tony kissed him again. “I think it’s time someone looked after you, don’t you think?”

“Me? No…you’re the one who needs--”

“Then you look after me. But I’ve had people look after me, I didn’t handle them well, but I’ve had people…I’ve been asked after, checked in on…I had parents, friends…yes, I’ve dealt with miserable, selfish assholes but there have been others.” His hand stroked over the shape of Steve’s face. “When was the last time someone asked you how you were doing, how you were really doing?”

“You and…and Nat have. Bucky has.”

“Yeah?” It did not sound like he believed it.

“Yes, Tony, you have. All of you.” Steve pressed. “Yes.”

Something sad crossed Tony’s face. “We’ll work on it, love.”

“Work on what?”

“Later.” Tony kissed him again. “Now,” his attention went down to the exposed chest and numbers, "Start from the beginning. I want to hear about all of them."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Now?"

"You better believe it." His thumb unfairly brushed over Steve’s exposed nipple and Steve jerked. “Talk before I get too distracted on doing things,” he flipped over it again, “to you.”

“T-Tony…”

“Talk, dollface.”

“That will take a long time.”

“Mhmm, it will.” Tony purred, pressing himself against Steve and gave a little thrust. He laughed when Steve made another cute noise. “God, I really should’ve done this sooner. Making you mine…hell, I was an idiot.”

“I…was yours from the start.” Steve said softly, “I just…wasn’t able to tell you.”

“What do you mean?’ Well…I mean, I do know you had a crush on me, I mean who wouldn’t but--”

Steve grabbed the hem of his pants, feeling a bit bold and maybe ready to show all of it to Tony, and jerked it down to show him exactly what he meant. “I had this on me probably six months after we met. The dates were later.”

“Wha…what?” Tony breathed.

There, resting on Steve’s hip was his arc in a deep, rich gold: a perfect circle with an upside down triangle. In the same color palette were two dates. “This is the date of Siberia and this is the date I saw you again.”

“Now that,” Tony rasped, “ _is_ self-torture.”

“Yeah, ok…maybe.”

Tony, his eyes trained hungrily on the sight, slowly dropped to his knees, ignoring Steve’s startled attempts to keep him standing. He gripped the hips, keeping the image before him in awe. “You…did this to yourself…you branded yourself.”

“Yeah.” Steve held on to Tony’s shoulders.

“Fucking hell.” And then he pressed his mouth and tongue against the tattoo. He lapped at it gentle, providing a little suck, and then proceeded to kiss it gentle over and over again. “You branded yourself.”

“Y-Yes.” Steve whimpered, his knees shaking a little.

“You’re mine.”

“Yes, yours. Only yours.”

“God, Steve.”

“I love you, you know. More than I have loved anyone else. I’m just sorry I’ve struggled to really show this to you.”

“Get down.” Tony hissed, his voice stressed and dried out. “Get down here with me.”

Steve did as told, kneeling in front of Tony, reaching up and holding Tony’s face. Tony mimicked the movement right back. For a few moments they just looked at each other, sharing air, and a moment of silence before Tony swooped in and caught Steve’s mouth once more. He pushed his tongue in as his hand went down and rested possessively over the arc.

Every few seconds, for a brief blink, would they part for a gasp of air but would soon be back to each other, hungry and desperate.

“I am,” Tony groaned against Steve’s soft mouth, “so happy I listened to Natasha.”

“Nat?”

“In the kitchen. She told me to stop being so harsh and listen to you. I didn’t think you would come after me…but I promised myself if you did I would listen…and you did.” His canine gave a little pinch to Steve’s bottom lip. “You came after me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t do it to you, ever.”

“You’re allowed to be chased, Tony. You don’t have to do everything for everyone.”

Tony laughed, “I appreciate that. You certainly know how to make a man feel special. But what you said is the same to you. You have to allow it for yourself too.” He picked up Steve’s hands and kissed the back of them. “You know that, right?”

“I think I’m starting to get it.”

“Good. I’m not about to let you ever think anything different. Understand?”

“Mhm, yes,” He tilted his neck as Tony went back to it, providing easier access for the mouthy individual.

“And how do you feel about having Stark Property on you?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on babe! You already basically have it as a metaphor…why not literally?”

“ _No_.”

“It can be on your backside, no one but me would see it.”

“I am NOT getting a tramp-stamp of your name.”

“Not just my name; the word _property_ would be there too.” Tony was smacked upside the head. “Ow!”

“No.”

“Fine, we’ll table that conversation for later.” He just gave the flustered, grumpy face of his Steve a flirty grin. He’ll get another one on the man; Tony was notorious for getting what he wanted. With a kiss on Steve’s forehead, he got himself and the younger man up. “Are you ok?”

Steve looked surprised, “Yes?”

“I mean, yes now…I know I didn’t maul you but I was close.” Tony’s lips twitch, “but I mean…”

“Overall?”

“Yeah." The older man's voice was so soft and filled with worry.

"Yes…yes, I am.” Steve whispered back just as soft.

“Are you sure? You,” Tony looked down at the dates again. “I mean…”

“I’ll be ok.” Steve said with a smile. “I’ve been carrying this for a while. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll be stopping?”

“No, Tony.” Steve still had a soft smile on his face. “I want to keep going. This means something more to me than self-torture.” He pressed his hand to his side, staring down at the numbers with something similar to affection. “It hurts. Most of them do carry something negative but not all of them. And it’s all special. They should not ever be forgotten.”

Tony did not respond for a moment, looking over the numbers, not quite able to see it as special as Steve did but understood its heavy beauty. His own chest, with its scars and metallic heart, was a burden he wasn’t sure he would ever change even with the amazing process of his tech. It was not something that he wanted to try and wash away any more.

“Who is what color?” He finally asked.

“Going to wait until later to hear the whole list?” Steve grinned.

“Yeah, I think I like the idea of listening to you tell all of it to me while you are sweaty and panting after a good few rounds in the bed. A bed-time story of sorts.”

“Good lord, Tony.” Steve covered his face again. 

“Meh, so I’m an old man with a dirty mind. Sue me. So I’m gold…” He tugged at Steve’s jeans, peaking down at the tattoo that was just for him. “My guess is green is Mean Green.”

“Yes, Bruce is green. Purple for Clint. Red for Natasha…I know you use mostly red in your scheme but,” he shrugged, unsure how to really continue. “I felt gold suited you more.”

“Yeah, cause I’m rich.”

Steve flicked his forehead. “Stop ruining the romance.”

“It’s either bland sarcasm or me talking about pushing my cock into you—” he was smacked again. “Ow!! Stop that!”

“Stop saying stuff like that out loud!”

“Oh, well to do that I’ll need use of your tongue and—OW!” 

“Anyway,” Steve grumbled. “Blue to match the color of Thor’s lightning. Silver for Bucky, yellow for Sam, pink for Wanda, and white for Vision. I am considering other colors for Peter and Scott and looking at different shades of blue or purple for Nebula…”

“You don’t need everyone on you.” Tony said in something of a sulk.

“It’s hard to resist.”

“Dates will be out of order.”

“Guess I may need to see about using this other side.” Steve said, taking a peek at his more empty side.

“No!” Tony snapped, clinging to the young man. “This is my side. _Mine_. Only more of me is going over here.”

Steve sighed, “Tony…really?”

“Mine!” He continued like a toddler.

“Ok, ok…” Steve tenderly placed a hand on Tony’s hair. “Fine.” He smirked, “We’ll just table the conversation for later. OW!” He glared down at Tony who had bit him on the shoulder. “That may need to stop.”

“It’s kinky.”

“You can’t bite me to get your way on things.”

“What’s wrong with a few sexy nips between _friends_?”

Steve groaned, “You’re never going to drop that, are you?”

“That you thought I bit, B-I-T, you cause we’re friends? Ha, no. I’ll remind you of that for the rest of our lives.” He chuckled. “Still, holy shit.”

“Ugh.” Steve rubbed his face, miserable at the embarrassing act. Ok, he can admit it was a little stupid…but he couldn’t help it! He never thought one Tony Stark would be eager to have a make-out session with him! And yeah, ok, maybe under such light as thinking ‘I am so miserable no one would ever want to kiss me, so of course this sexy man whom I adore would only sexily bite me cause of friendship only’ did deserve some therapy.

“Hey,” Tony began a very mischievous and evil glint in his eye. “You got any other things I need to see under these pants of yours?”

Steve whimpered, “I-I guess you need to check and find out.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice.” Tony purred, grabbing at the jeans and yanking them down. 

-o-

“I want a Totoro!” Clint cried out, pointing at one of the beautiful pictures of a sketch and a photo of the completed tattoo framed on the wall.

“You’re here for the Avengers one.” Natasha hummed on the plush couch, flipping through one of the many tattoo magazines.

“I’m gonna get a Totoro. It’ll go on the other arm.” Clint continued as if he hadn’t heard his best friend. “The kids will love it.”

“We all know you’d be getting it for yourself.” Natasha continued.

“He’s the best animated creation ever to exist. I would be a fool not to get him.” Clint looked down at his samurai and decided, yeah, it needed a friend on the other side. And there was no better friend than Totoro. His plan for the Mandalorian one can be on his calf. Or maybe with Totoro…that would be an awesome piece. Star Wars and Studio Ghibli? Muah, chef’s kiss galore.

Josh was just tallying up the pay-day he was about to receive as he listened to Hawkeye jump from one idea to another, all big in size with a lot of detail…well, he tried to. It was hard to concentrate when terrifying billionaire Iron Man was glaring at him as if he were some foe who needed a smiting.

Steve, behind Tony, threw Josh an apologetic smile.

Apparently the two of them had gotten together in the past twenty-four hours.

And apparently one Tony Stark had a jealous streak and was not fond of the ideas of someone’s hands on Steve.

And, well, that thought was a little bit horrifying as everyone knew what Stark could do to people he deemed as enemies.

“Tony, please stop glaring at him.” Steve sighed, tugging at their interlocked hands. “You’re here to hire him…not give him nightmares.”

Too late for that but Josh appreciated Steve trying to keep him safe.

“Yeah, so,” Tony drawled out, keeping himself in front of Steve like a shield, “You’re not going any lower on him without me present.”

“Tony,” Steve warned.

Josh, still a bit surprised to find a massive chunk of the world-famous Avengers in his studio, pursed his lips, “You gonna be able to make it to all his appointments?”

Tony scoffed, insulted. “I’ll be here. No hands are on this,” he grabbed at Steve’s tummy, close to the golden arc, “without my permission. I’m only allowing this because, unfortunately, you are doing a very beautiful job on my Steve’s skin and I know I cannot talk him out of this…it would suck if he didn’t get to finish it anyway.”

“Tony.” Steve begged, his ears turning hot.

“You’ll also start tattooing me. Steve is not going to be special to you. He’s only special to me…to our family. You’ll tattoo all of the Avengers from now on. Not just Steve. Just Steve is for me only.”

Both could instantly see the hearts and money symbols sprout over Josh’s head—he clearly did not care about the threats. Steve was a babbling mess at the possessive display.

“You’ll start with the Avengers one. I’d like to say on my chest, but we’ll do wrist to match my baby.” He grabbed Steve’s wrist to show what he meant. “You’ll also do a blue star on me, like he has the arc…still deciding where to put that. I may not match because while Steve is shy, I am not. I am more than happy to show he’s mine and I’m his.”

“Tony,” Steve continued to beg. “That’s enough.”

“What? As you said, I’m hiring him. I am just telling him what I am hiring him for.”

“You’re being a possessive dick.”

“Meh. Don’t care.” Tony waved off the concern. “Also, if he ever asks you to tattoo him on this side,” he motioned to the right portion of Steve’s body, “and it has nothing to do with me, you tell him no. I’ll pay you to tell him no. Hell, I’ll give you ten-thousand right now to tell him no.”

“Steve, no.” Josh said, grinning.

“Good job.” Tony pulled out his phone, tapped a bit and nodded, “It’s in your account.”

“Whoa, wait, really? I thought you were joking…”

“Nope.”

“Tony.” Steve whimpered, his cheeks flushed bright red. 

“He needs something else of me on him. You got any ideas there, _Josh_?” He huffed out the name, still not pleased with how Steve had said it before. “And you’re not Steve’s Josh. You’re ours. Steve can’t have anyone on his own.”

Josh whistled, “God damn, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, I have problems. I’ll continue to pay a therapist to deal with that and pay you to enable me.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Steve just groaned in misery.

“Hush, babe. Your noises are giving me really impure thoughts and you have told me you’re not up for quickies in public.”

“God dammit, Tony.” Steve sulked, blushing up to the roots of his hair.

Josh was grinning from ear to ear. “I have gotten quite good at Iron Man stuff…I can put as many on him as you want.”

“Don’t you start.” Steve groaned. “I need someone on my side with this.”

"Pay me ten-thousand dollars and I'll get right on that." Josh teased.

“Hmm," Tony stroked his chin, "I like the sound of it. I'll need to see your work but if you're good that'll be perfect. He needs my face somewhere on him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You have far too much hurt on you, babe.” Tony noted, his voice surprisingly serious for how he was behaving just moments before. “Let’s get something a bit more fun and gorgeous…like me.”

“I’m not getting your face tattooed on me.” 

“We can put the evolutions of all his arcs on you.” Josh helped.

“Ooh, I like that.” Tony grinned. “Let’s also look at getting my initials on him. TS somewhere…ooh maybe his thigh.”

“Ooh, ohh, what if it’s your quote, ‘I am Iron Man’ but we make it possessive so it goes ‘I am Iron Man’s’. That could be good.” Josh continued, apparently very inspired.

“Brilliant. That’s five thousand more dollars.”

“You are my favorite Avenger.” Josh gushed.

“Yeah, money can do that.” Tony smirked. “So, let’s get started. We all at least want this Avenger tattoo on us today. I’ll talk with dollface here and get him set-up for another appointment once we decide what he’ll get.”

“Tony,” Steve sighed, though it sounded far too dreamy to really be seen as scolded. Wow, did he have it bad for the other man. 

It was nice, Josh decided, to see the man get attention like this. He really deserved it. Maybe now the blond would not seem so breakable and sad whenever he was in the chair getting those numbers imprinted on his skin.

Tony certainly seemed to have a promise in his eyes as he stared back at Steve with equal dreamy adoration.

That certainly was a pleasant thing to see. Josh hoped he could soon put far more happy ink on the Captain’s skin soon.

“Ooh! OOH! Totoro in a Mandalorian helmet!” Clint continued to screech. “This is the fluffy, neighborly way, bitch!”

**Author's Note:**

> Steve deserves to have his depression, anxiety, PTSD, and suicidal tendencies explored and talked about in a healthy way. I think a lot could've been avoided if we got to see Steve in these vulnerable times like we have Tony. Steve has suffered a lot...so much, and it is unfair to have it brushed aside while it also being a discarded layer to his character. In this TED Talk I'll...
> 
> All meme's aside, this does make me itch. I do think Steve has a lot to apologize for but I think Tony does too...I just feel that due to the presentation of these two characters in the MCU makes Steve look like a one-dimensional ass and Tony a victim of Steve. 
> 
> I am soooo tempted to write another piece with a bit more focus on Steve and his suffering with his past and the Accords...gotta get these other dust-bunnies done first (like Anatomy and Iron Brand and finish Dangerous Tastes...and maybe do a pure smut one-shot). Ugh, so many Steve ideas and so little time!
> 
> Well, hope you enjoyed this bit of tooth-rot fluff!


End file.
